


then who shall redeem us?

by Chucychito



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aborted Undertale Genocide Run, Angst, Chara isn't evil, Forgiveness, Gen, Good Chara (Undertale), Hurt/Comfort, Redemption, References to Undertale Genocide Route, Undertale Pacifist Route, neither is flowey really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:42:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24034486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chucychito/pseuds/Chucychito
Summary: The human resets, and it should be a good thing. Why doesn't it feel like it?_Are we still having fun?Are you holding the gun?Take the money and runWe'll never go home(We'll never go home)
Relationships: Chara & Flowey (Undertale), Flowey & Frisk (Undertale)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	then who shall redeem us?

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to FrickinGwaine who helped me edit this bad boy.
> 
> Italics is Frisk, normal is Chara.  
> For reference, the genocide run was not completed. I know they technically killed Flowey and some say that's the last chance you have to reset, but I know it's possible to reset after that. Besides, creative liberties and all that. In this fic, they reset immediately after killing Flowey.

When the human resets, Flowey doesn't bother greeting them. They call for him, voice quiet and shaking, tentatively searching the clearing for where he could be hiding until Toriel arrives. But what’s Flowey supposed to say to them now? What is there to explain, they all know the drill by this point. And what’s the point in mocking them for not having the guts to finish the timeline when it was him that begged them to stop, to finally show mercy?

Despite himself, he can’t keep from watching their progress once again, and he truly can’t understand why. They’re sparing everyone again, he should feel at ease. Yet every time he sees them, Flowey’s reminded of their last encounter. How everything had been silent after his last plea for mercy, save for the sound of their labored breathing and the quiet thrum of the barrier behind them. How he was so sure that he was about to die when they raised their knife, only for it to clatter to the ground between them. The human (was it even Chara? He’d been so sure, but he didn't know anymore) let out a strangled sob and sunk to their knees, folding into themself like poorly-done origami.

"Ch-Chara?" Flowey ventured, in a way he would deny was hopeful. He hesitantly slunk a little closer. "I-it's okay, Chara! I knew you weren't going to hurt me!" The waver of his voice said otherwise, as did his previous groveling, but the human didn't even seem to register the words anyway.

"I'm sorry," they mumbled into the sleeve of their striped sweater. Their shoulders shook with the force of their crying, and they repeated, in an echoey mess of two different clashing tones, "I'm sorry, I can't--  _ we have to _ \-- please,  _ please, _ not him, we can find another way,  _ come on, please--  _ don't come any closer Azzy I can't--"

Flowey flinched a little at his old nickname, but it didn't keep him from ignoring the human's request. They didn't know what they were saying anyway. 

"We can forget about this!" He insisted, close enough now that he had to look up to see the child's face, even at their current level. And so what if the hair wasn't the right color, if the clothes were just a little different, if their old crayons and video camera were replaced with a single dusty knife? This was Chara, only they had ever called him Azzy. "We can live on the surface like we always wanted-- or we could start over, whatever you want, as long as we're together! We can- we can finally be  _ happy  _ Chara--"

The knife slashed through him, once, twice, thrice…

And then he woke up in the Ruins.

The memory hurts more than it should, given the fact that Flowey doesn't even have the proper means to feel the betrayal. But, he supposes, it makes sense. After all, he’d been the one to insist that this world was kill or be killed, and then he’d had the gall to contradict himself at the very end. He was in their way, he can’t say he wouldn’t have done the same thing.

Except… He isn’t sure.

The human lingers in the passage between Toriel's house and Snowdin forest for longer than necessary, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what they're looking for. Flowey doesn't bother appeasing their curiosity, and lets himself stay hidden among the rocks and shadows. If they're unnerved by his absence-- and they are, Flowey can tell by the way their lips on their otherwise carefully steeled face twitch almost imperceptibly downwards-- then all the better. In reality, though, if he's being painfully honest with himself,, that's not the only reason he decides to keep himself concealed.

He's  _ scared _ . Scared of what they've done, of what sort of power they hold. Scared of the unpredictability. Of the lack of control.

The human finally gives up and moves onward. Flowey follows.

_

" _ Flowey _ ."

The sound of his name startles him out of his thoughts, and for a moment he's glad for the distraction. That is, until he looks up to find the source of the voice.

Snow still clings to their hair and shoulders from their recent trek through Snowdin, and Flowey is painfully reminded of the snowball fights and hot cocoa that would have accompanied this image a lifetime ago. The human's face is carefully blank, though something familiar flickers in their dark eyes when they meet Flowey's, and for a moment he can almost trick himself-- 

"Wait, stop," they plead when Flowey quickly makes to hide beneath the rocky surface of Waterfall. They hold their hands out in a placating manner and hesitantly crouches down beside him.

Flowey bristles, pretending disgust is the only reason he rears away from them. "Tch, what do you want? Shouldn't you be on your way to Undyne by now?"

The child tips their head slightly, regarding Flowey with an unreadable expression. They don't say anything.

"H-hey, stop looking at me like that," Flowey scowls. His voice must've been louder and harsher than he'd meant it to be, because the echo flower behind him repeats his words back in a quiet whisper.

The human lets out a soft breath and rubs at their eyes wearily. " _ Sorry _ ," they say quietly, letting their gaze fall onto the rocks between them. A long minute passes before they say anything else, and Flowey is debating on if he should take his leave when they finally speak again. "I just want to talk, Azzy."

"Don't call me that," Flowey snaps immediately, and then chokes out a laugh. "You think this is funny, don't you? This is a game to you, you don't care about anything but your own sick curiosity. Haha, you're soulless, aren't you? Just like me!"

"No, no!" the child protests vehemently, and it's the first display of emotion Flowey has seen of them in awhile. "You don't understand--"

"Aw, what, don't like it when I say that? It's true, though. You killed them all, Ch..." Flowey falters, sentence dying on his tongue.

"I know," the child says, voice shaking slightly. "I know, I know. We reset immediately As-- Flowey, it… It wasn’t worth it. We still have our soul. I swear none of that was funny or fun. This isn’t a game _. _ "

""We" and "our"," Flowey mocks with a sneer. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

"Flowey."

"Why did you decide to reset and lose all your progress? When are you going to decide the other timeline was more fun? Who am I even talking to right now? Who  _ are  _ you?"

"Flowey, stop _._ Please listen to me."

Flowey reluctantly stops the questions that had admittedly been rising in hysteria and resorts to glaring heatedly at the human instead.

"What happened in the last timeline... It won't happen again."

Flowey snorts and narrows his eyes. His mouth stretches into an ironic mockery of a smile. "That's what I said, too, when I had that power."

The human's expression tightens marginally. "You also don't have a soul."

"Hmm, no, I don't," Flowey agrees innocently. "Guess that makes two of us, huh?"

A frustrated sigh hisses through their teeth. "Stop saying that! You don’t understand.”

“But don’t I?” Flowey drops the smile. He pretends to be so uninterested in the conversation that he’s distracted by the shimmering of the echo flowers, even though that’s not why he turns his face away. “I did what I did because I wanted to feel something. You did it even though you still could. So who’s really the sicko here, hm?”

He doesn’t wait for the child’s response before he escapes back underground.

_

He doesn’t sneak in to deliver the final blow during the human’s battle with Asgore, much to their confusion. He blends in quite nicely in the king’s garden of yellow flowers, and for the moment he’s just content to simply observe. It doesn’t seem to matter much anyway, as merely minutes later, the king takes his own life, instructing the human to take his soul to safely cross the barrier and return home. Same ending, different catalyst.

Flowey’s not surprised at all when they reload again. After all, this ending was no fun.

_

The next time Flowey and the human speak again is back in Waterfall. The child sits on a bench in a well-concealed room, face tucked into arms crossed over their knees. If they notice Flowey’s cautious appearance, they don’t show it.

Flowey waits for a moment, hesitant, before he sighs. “What’s your problem?”

The human doesn’t lift their head. The only acknowledgment of Flowey’s words is the way their shoulders tense and how their hands grip at their knees a little tighter.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re actually feeling  _ remorse _ , are you?” When they don’t say anything, Flowey gives a sharp laugh. “Golly, you’re good at this.” He lets his expression fade and shakes his head. “When are you going to give this act up? Who are you trying to fool here?”

" _ Nobody _ ." Their voice is soft, and it cracks on the word. Their hands uncurl and they make as if they're about to gesture, but instead the human sighs and lets their hands drop back into their lap. When they speak again, it's a tad stronger and less clipped. "Why are you here, Azzy?"

"I told you not to call me that," Flowey scowls.

The human gives him a flat, challenging look, but doesn't say anything.

"Whatever." Flowey rolls his eyes and drops their gaze. "Don't cry too much over here or you'll have to deal with Woshua trying to clean you up." [Not that Flowey speaks from experience, but he definitely remembers a time when that had happened to Asriel].

"Thanks," the child deadpans. Flowey sneers at them before he takes his leave.

_

Flowey appears right before the doors of Alphys's lab, startling the human enough for them to flinch and stumble backward.

His lips twitch into a derisive smile at their reaction, but otherwise, he doesn't acknowledge it. "Just a friendly warning. You probably won't like what you see in there."

It takes a few seconds for the human to respond, half of which they spend making those hand gestures before they evidently give up. Once their hands fall to their sides, an awkward beat passes before they say anything. "What's that supposed to mean? Did you do something?"

"Me?" Flowey pretends to be hurt. "Never."

"Mhm."

"Fine, don’t take my advice. It doesn’t mean anything to me.” He shrugs. “Have fun.”

“Wait--” the child’s voice is tinged with alarm, but Flowey doesn’t stick around to hear the rest of what they have to say.

_

He knows the kid likes to take their sweet time, and he’s more than aware of everything in the true lab and how that might be a bit of a time-consuming situation, but it’s been a couple of hours and they still haven’t strolled back into the elevator. Flowey’s been poised around here ready for his dramatic reveal for ages, and irritation is what eventually leads him to go down there himself to see what’s taking so long. [At least, that’s what he tells himself.]

The secret lab beneath Alphys’s public lab is cold and dimly lit. Flowey has made it a point to avoid the place ever since the beginning, but it seems not much has changed. The halls are still eerily quiet, the walls still lined with the scientist’s laughably futile journal entries.  _ Home sweet home _ he thought sarcastically. Flowey suppresses a sudder.)

It takes a second to find them, but when he does he isn’t surprised. They’re curled into themselves in the corner, clutching at their hair. Beside them are a pile of ancient VHS tapes and a scattering of broken glass from the TV.

Flowey doesn’t say anything. He stays in the doorway, watching the human warily.

“Azzy,” their voice is shaky and quiet, “I know you’re there.”

Flowey lets out a huff. He doesn’t correct them-- what’s the point? It hasn’t done anything so far. “I told you you wouldn’t like this place.”

“Those… those  things … That could’ve been you.” They shift a little and raise their head. Their eyes are red and puffy, but they hold Flowey’s gaze firmly. “Have you seen these videos?”

Flowey saunters a little closer, but not too close. Pointedly eyeing the busted television, he says, “Boy, you really made a mess in here.” Looking back up at the human, he tilts his head and smiles humorlessly. “Were you going to clean this up yourself or…?”

The child lets out a pained laugh, and the familiarity of the sound is enough to shock Flowey rigid. “Everything’s such a mess.” They force a watery smile, but it crumbles fast and their eyes drop to their lap. “You trusted me, Azzy, and I--”

“Ugh,” Flowey snaps, “would you just stop that already? You can stop pretending! This little front you put on doesn’t fool me anymore, okay? I know who you  _ really  _ are!”

“Who am I, then?”

The abruptness of the question has Flowey faltering. The human is looking at him, seemingly imploring him to give them the right answer.

Disgust (or maybe apprehension) wells within him at the display. Still he twists his expression and forces as much hate into his voice as he can when he spits, “A  _ monster. _ ”

He’d expected some sort of intense reaction to that, in fact that was kinda the  _ point,  _ but the kid just dips their head in shame. “Monsters are better than this,” they say softly. “I’m a  _ demon. _ ”

Flowey scoffs. “Don’t give yourself  _ that  _ much credit.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Their sentence is punctuated by a sob. They quickly duck their head lower, but Flowey’s already caught the tears in their eyes. 

He rolls his eyes, because this whole thing is really getting on his nerves. “Stop being such a crybaby! Y’know, none of this would even be happening if you had just  _ finished the job! _ ”

Their head snaps up at that, and  _ finally,  _ Flowey’s managed to piss them off. “Are you  _ actually  _ upset that we didn’t destroy the world? But  _ you said  _ you changed your mind!”

Despite himself, he flinches a bit at that. “Oh come on, you know you didn’t go back because I asked you to. Hello,  _ you killed me! _ What was there left to do after that, huh? There was no way you could’ve crossed the barrier with that soul as tainted as it was. But instead of erasing everything and starting again from scratch you went back! Back to make  _ friends  _ with everyone you  _ killed _ . What was the  _ point  _ of all that if it wasn’t to destroy everything?  _ Was  _ there ever a point, or are you just that sick?”

“You’re one to talk! How come  _ you’ve  _ never destroyed it all?”

“ _ I never got that far! _ ”

“You would’ve reset even if you had. You said it yourself-- you don’t want to disappear.”

“You could’ve created a new timeline, but you  _ didn’t. _ ”

“We can’t run from our mistakes,” the child says firmly. “We’re not above consequences. Destroying this world and starting anew would be even worse than going back to fix things.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Flowey scoffs.This is so  _ frustrating. None  _ of this makes any sense to him. Their piteous wallowing, their “remorse”, the back and forth between “we” and “I”, this confusing mess of feelings he isn’t even supposed to have. Even the fact that he’s here right now in front of the human and that they haven’t attacked him or, or  _ anyone  _ yet. None of this makes any sense and it’s the most infuriating and insufferable thing he can ever remember feeling.

But… That’s okay. He still has his plan, after all. And even though they’d taken a slight detour with this discussion, things are still right on track. Right, and then he’s  _ really  _ going to get back at them. They won’t even see it coming-- he can’t wait to see their stupid face.

He smiles then. A tad too wide and eerie if the human’s wary expression is anything to go by, but hey, that’s all the better! “Anyway pal, you better get going! There’s a lot left to this old lab and you can’t just sit here forever!” He winks cheerfully. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Alphys you broke her TV.”

The human frowns. “W-wait, please don’t leave Asriel--”

But he does. He can hear their cursed shout from where he’s burrowed into the ground, and he hopes they can hear his cackling in answer.

_

One thing he really should have thought about, in hindsight, was how  _ emotional  _ he’d be after absorbing literally all of the souls in the underground. Later, he’ll chalk his loss up to his inability to think straight with all the distracting feelings feelings  _ feelings-- _

But for now, there are tears and shaking hands and, “I understand if you can’t forgive me, I understand if you  _ hate  _ me--”

A second, familiar presence settles beside him, and a clear voice that he knows,  _ he knows,  _ speaking in tandem with his, “No, I’m so sorry, forgive me, forgive me- _ -” _

_ I forgive you _ .

Frisk’s smile is warm and sad, and when they draw Asriel into their arms, he  _ knows  _ that Chara’s there, too.

_

The relief is present even when Asriel isn’t anymore. There’s an added bitterness, a bit of sour nostalgia and a longing for all the things he’d been given a taste of, but at least the relief stays. It makes it a little easier to stay behind.

Not that it’s easy. There is a part of him that still wants to  _ destroy everything  _ so that they reset because the underground is empty and cold and they made him  _ feel _ things again and they forgave him, like an  _ idiot _ , so what’s stopping him?

But he knows he won’t. He really doesn’t want to do any of that again, and, besides.

They deserve to be happy, after everything.

_

He doesn’t know how much time passes-- it’s sort of hard to keep track when you’re the only one around in a place lacking the day/night cycle-- but.

They come back.

“I can’t go with you,” he says, but he can’t bring himself to muster up the usual malice.

“ _ I know. _ ” They sit beside him, cross-legged on the grass, and lean back on their hands. There’s a several second pause in which the two simply stare at each other, but then they duck their head. When they speak again, it’s with a slightly different inflection that he recognized as Chara’s. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Flowey snorts in disbelief, and they offer him a tentative smile. He can’t believe this. “What are you doing here?” he demands. 

Their smile slips and they drop his gaze again. A small pile of ripped up grass seems to be accumulating beside them.

I don’t get it,” Flowey says after a long, palpable silence, and if his voice wavers a bit, neither of them mention it. “It’s funny, isn’t it? Haha, I still can’t predict you.”

“I--” they swallow thickly and take a long breath. It’s not the same voice that says, “ _ we can’t leave you alone.” _

“Well, you’re going to have to.” Flowey glares at them, but something in their expression tells him they don’t buy it. He amps it up a little, “What makes you think I won’t kill you and everyone you love? You can’t trust me!” He says it with a wicked smile, but if he’s honest the thought isn’t even  _ that  _ appealing anymore. But he  _ can’t  _ go back. He can’t stay with them, he can’t face everyone, not when he can’t feel anything and can’t even trust  _ himself _ .

They stare at him stubbornly. “Because you haven’t yet.”

“Ugh, would you just  _ stop it!  _ Just leave me alone, I’m not going with you!”

They hold their hands out placatingly. “Okay, okay. No one’s forcing you.” They tilt their head. “You have to spare me.”

He blinks. In his outburst, he’d accidentally summoned his bullets and pulled them into a fight. Their red soul floats calmly between them, completely unconcerned and unafraid. He scowls and mutely looks away as he spares them.

“You’re such an idiot,” he mutters.

They’re looking at him with that unreadable expression he hates. “Maybe so,” they reply, before clambering to their feet. They pull their backpack around and rifle through it before pulling out a slice of butterscotch pie. “We’ll be back tomorrow,” they say, calm as ever.

Flowey shifts and refuses to look at them or the pie. “Whatever.”

They set the plate lightly down between them, and with that, they leave.

He looks at the clumps of ripped grass, the footprints in the dirt, the plate of saran-wrapped pie. He doesn’t know what it is, exactly, but there’s definitely something he’s feeling.

His gaze swivels up to the roof of the cave, to the light filtering in from above. He thinks he can see a cloud in the sky, if he squints hard enough.

_ Maybe someday, _ he thinks, turning back to the pie in front of him.  _ Maybe. _

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third part of a trilogy. I'm posting them out of order because I can't wait anymore and I crave validation. Also, they can all be read separately.  
> Also yes, I did quote MCR in the summary and I am NOT ashamed to admit it.
> 
> Anyway, please please please kudos or comment if you liked it. Or even if you didn't like it. I would really appreciate it!


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